When We Were Children
by Kitachi
Summary: Ichigo can't see ghosts - yet. Uryuu isn't bitter, he's haunted. Orihime has a deadly throwing arm. One more person makes "the promise" with Chad. Tatsuki takes things into her own hands. Mizuiro the ladykiller and... Sharpshooter? Keigo can't stop the beat. Karin takes up Kendo. Yuzu loves archery. Even Urahara Kisuke could not have seen this coming. [AU/NoShip]
1. The Preamble

**Notes:** Alternate universe with multiple (major) points of departure.

Australian grammar/spelling/punctuation habits.

Anything that isn't canon is probably on purpose. Canon constitutes all manga arcs, NOT ANIME. Liberties taken with timeline. A few chapters planned out, nothing too concrete yet.

SPOILERS. Those who have not read past ch.600 or so have been warned.

Don't own any of the recognisable characters or events. All credit to "Tits" Kubo.

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><p><strong>1. The Preamble<strong>

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><p>'You're sure?' asked the scraggy haired man. He glanced at his old friend's children. Two little girls and one boy. They slept soundly on a couch in the man's living room, too tired to do much else. The two girls clung to their brother tightly, one resting on his shoulder and the other with her head on his lap.<p>

'Do it,' said the widowed man, 'She would have loved for them to -' he broke off and blinked a bit. Well, it was no secret that the man's wife had wanted to pass on their combined heritage, but...'It isn't safe any more.'

The scraggy haired man flipped his fan open and entered business mode. 'It will last ten years. Twelve if we are lucky. They will be harder to limit after that.'

'It's fine. At this rate, mine will be back well before then.'

'They won't remember being able to -'

'All the better.'

Looking out from over his fan, the shopkeeper smiled in a way that did not reach his eyes, 'Are you sure about this?' he asked once more.

His old friend's face turned serious. 'Kisuke.' It was the man's best Don't-bullshit-me-Urahara voice.

'Isshin,' the shopkeeper replied lightly. They sat in the darkened kitchen with steaming cups of tea, neither of the men speaking. It was a companionable silence - one they had become accustomed to in the past few weeks of reconnecting. It seemed that over a decade of estrangement did nothing to the bonds they shared.

Kurosaki Isshin stood, 'Are you coming to the funeral?'

Kisuke closed his fan and set it down, 'If you will have me.'

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><p>_.~*~._<p>

* * *

><p><em>'Are you ready, Bocchan?' asked a voice from outside the door.<em>

_'Hai,' came a breathy reply. He packed his sewing kit and straightened his shirt in the nick of time as the family butler stepped inside._

_'Your father requests your presence in his office before we leave.'_

_He sighed and wished Sensei could come with them. Like words repeated too many times, wishes made too often quickly lost their significance._

* * *

><p>On his right side, his pressed white Oxford shirt became wrinkled under Karin's clutching fist. To his left, holding tightly onto his hand, Yuzu shook with small sobs. Ichigo looked toward the closed casket where the centre of his universe lay cold and unmoving. The children stood close to their mother's body, unsure of where to be. Their father stood a few metres away talking with a colleague in hushed tones.<p>

Another doctor, he had said; one who worked at the big hospital, and a son Ichigo's age.

Karin took Yuzu to the bathroom to clean up, and Ichigo was alone. Whispering to himself he said the only things that made sense; 'Ribs; five cracked and two broken. Bruising on the torso region. Multiple lacerations to the head, hands, and back. One large cut 4.25cm deep from the right shoulder blade to the lower back. One collapsed lung.'

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><p><em>'Do you want to know why?' said a father to his only child.<em>

_'I know why, Otou-sama,' the boy said defiantly, 'You hate them. You hate -'_

_'You think you know why,' the man cut in sharply, 'But you know nothing.'_

_The boy flinched, but squared his shoulders._ '_I __know who I_ am,'_ he said. There was a glint of pride in his eye. The man watched impassively, regarding the boy from behind his desk._

_'And what good will that do? What use is it?' the man finally replied. The question seemed to be addressed only half to his son._

_The boy felt heat rise up in his face, embarrassed by how young he suddenly felt. 'So I can protect everyone. So no one has to_ die!'

* * *

><p>A hand on his shoulder, warm and familiar, made Ichigo turn and look up. His father offered him a strained smile.<p>

'Ichigo, I'd like you to meet someone,' Ichigo turned to the tall man standing next to Isshin.

'Nice to meet'cha,' he said, without bowing. He felt an affectionate hand smack him lightly, and rolled his eyes before dipping his head.

The man raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement but shook his head and turned to look behind him. Ichigo tilted on his feet to get a look at whatever was so interesting. A boy with black hair and wire-rimmed glasses stared back at him from his place behind the man's legs.

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><p><em>'It isn't always a matter of strength, Uryuu,' he said in a low voice, 'Sometimes it is the courage to surrender - sometimes; it comes down to sacrifice.' Ishida Ryuuken stood and walked around to his son. The boy looked contemplative now, rather than angry.<em>

_'I am a selfish man,' he said, kneeling so as to be able to speak to the boy directly, 'And because of my selfishness, I can protect only what I can hold in my hands. My colleague is selfless - always trying to help everyone - it is his wife's funeral that we are attending,' Ryuuken paused, thoughts lingering on Kanae. _

_'He wanted to carry the world for her, Uryuu; and it broke him - right after it broke her. Do you understand?'_

_Uryuu shook his head. _

* * *

><p>The men walked off, leaving their sons to get their own food. Ichigo sat in a chair with his feet dangling over the edge. The plate in his lap, laden with snacks, was untouched. Taking the seat beside him Uryuu ate without fuss.<p>

Neither of them had much to say to each other. Though while one boy seethed with unanswered questions - on account of the fact that it would be insensitive to ask them - the other boy just didn't have the energy.

Ichigo saw the other boy's eyes on him and turned. Uryuu started, expecting an outburst, but when Ichigo said nothing he just kept staring. The only words that came to mind were neither of malice nor comfort, merely curiosity; 'What was she like?'

* * *

><p><em>'How do you know them?' asked Uryuu from the back seat.<em>

_'Ryuuken-sama knew the woman,' answered the butler, who glanced up in the rear view mirror and smiled, 'They were friends a long time ago.'_

_In the front, Ryuuken absently thumbed a silver cross hanging from his neck. 'She was my sister.' _

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><p>Uryuu could put two and two together as he watched the family of four - once five - say goodbye to the people who attended. The woman had been killed by a hollow. All of the hints his father had dropped earlier that day in the middle of their heated discussion became quite clear. This funeral was Uryuu's warning.<p>

He saw how they stayed close to each other toward the end of the service, trying to draw strength from one another. The two younger girls - barely five years old - red eyed and swaying on their feet, stayed close to their older brother. It was disturbing to see children like him being weighed down by a _preventable _death. If someone had been there - perhaps if _he_ had been there - there may have been a chance.

Uryuu could even materialise a bow now; no more reishi condensation exercises for him.

He couldn't forget the haunted look on Ichigo's face, describing a woman who wasn't alive any more and stumbling over tenses. Through their conversation, Uryuu had refrained from interrupting as much as he could, gently prodding and nodding along with the other boy. By the end of the hour in which they had sat together, he probably knew Kurosaki Masaki better than he knew his father.

Uryuu remembered Ryuuken's words; _"She was my sister." _And for half a second he hesitated; but Uryuu's willful youth got the better of his caution. _"__He wanted to carry the world... and it broke him." _The boy's eyes hardened with resolve.

He would simply have to become stronger; so strong that not even the world could break him.

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><p>_.~*~._<p>

* * *

><p>'Maah; Tatsuki slow <em>down<em> already!' pleaded the strawberry blonde who trailed a few metres behind.

Tatsuki stopped and waited, readjusting her raincoat. Orihime's boots made splashing sounds as the girl insisted on stepping soundly into every puddle they could reach. A smear of colour caught Tatsuki's eye, and by the time the blue polka dot umbrella came up next to her, Tatsuki was no longer paying attention.

A boy with bright orange hair trudged along the riverbank. Orihime pulled at Tatsuki's sleeve, 'We should go,' she said in a small voice. Evidently, this wasn't a spontaneous occurrence.

Tatsuki said nothing, but her teeth clenched tightly. So this was where he'd been disappearing to. Their instructors had told them that Ichigo was going through a difficult time, and that they shouldn't expect him to return to classes again for a while. That had been a month and a half ago. Tatsuki was getting frustrated. Her sparring partner had been missing from the dojo for far too long.

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><p><em>'Two months, maybe less,' Soken hesitated, 'I'm sorry for your -'<em>

_'She's still here,' said Ryuuken, 'Don't say it like she isn't here.'_

_His father's voice dripped with kindly sympathy, 'It's not your fault.' It made Ryuuken sick._

_'Get out.'_

_'Ryuu -'_

_'Get _out!'

_'Tou-san?' The men froze. Their eyes met over the sickbed._

_Ryuuken was the first to recover, 'Go to bed Uryuu.'_

* * *

><p>It was lucky then, that Tatsuki had chosen this day to walk Orihime home from baseball practice after karate classes let out. The two girls watched Ichigo get up from his squatting position to pace along the rocky shore. A minute later he squatted again and continued to stare out at the water. He looked so... <em>lost<em>.

Taking Orihime's hand, Tatsuki led them down the path to the riverbank. Tatsuki's ratty shoes squelched with every step, but even as they approached he did not look up. Orihime handed over her umbrella and pulled up the hood on her raincoat. Tatsuki used it to shield Ichigo from the rain.

'You're getting wet, baka,' she said.

'...Un,' replied Ichigo, voice as glazed over as his eyes.

* * *

><p><em>'What do I do?'<em>

_Uryuu pressed his ear to the wall even harder._

_'Masaki is gone.' There was a pause and he heard his father shift in the chair._

_'This is what your precious blood has done to us,' even muffled by a wall, his father sounded bitter, 'You always said "Blood is everything", well are you happy now? Someone up there agrees with you.'_

_'I haven't thought about the bloodline since we - ...__Well, if I cared at all about purity neither of us would be here.' _

_'He won't listen to me. Father fills his head with naiveties and ideals. I wish -' Thunder drowned out the rest of the sentence._

_'Gomenasai, Kanae.' _

* * *

><p><em>'Glurrgh...' <em>Orihime flushed and pressed her free hand to her stomach.

'Nice one Hime,' said Tatsuki affectionately.

'Hey!' Orihime pouted, and mumbled, 'I forgot to pack my bento, okay?' Ichigo's shoulders shook. Tatsuki reached out to touch one, and nearly jumped back when he suddenly rose. When he turned there was the smallest of smiles on his face.

'Oyaji and the twins are cooking tonight,' he said uncertainly.

'Sou ka?' Tatsuki felt the corners of her own mouth tugging up, 'What are we having?'

Ichigo tilted his head and took the umbrella from Tatsuki's hand. They all began walking toward Kurosaki Clinic; Orihime and Tatsuki hand in hand, and Ichigo on Tatsuki's other side.

'Yakiniku,' he said.

Orihime gasped, 'Uwah...'

'I'm letting go if you drool on my hand Hime,' said Tatsuki gravely.

Orihime giggled, 'Then I'll hold Kurosaki-kun's hand!' Tatsuki's eyes bulged, and she clutched the other girl's hand possessively.

'Not a chance!' said the dark-haired girl. She rounded on Ichigo to tell him to stay the hell away from Orihime, but broke off when she heard him laughing.

It was not the boisterous laugh Tatsuki had become accustomed to - a shadow of what it had been - but it was there, and most importantly; it was real.

* * *

><p>_.~*~._<p>

* * *

><p>'It was not as one-sided as some would have you believe. Many fought, many died, and many; like our own family, went into hiding and declared neutrality, refusing to fight for either side.'<p>

'You mean, some fought with the...?'

'Yes. A few of our brethren believed the need for balance, and fewer still had the strength to fight for that belief.'

'Sensei?'

'Hmm?'

'Do _you_ believe the Shinigami were right? They won in the end, after all.'

Wind whistled through decorative ornaments to fill the pause.

'War does not determine who is right - only who is left.'

* * *

><p>Uryuu took deep, measured breaths in and out. Sensei had set him to meditation and reishi gathering exercises an hour ago. His hands lay palm up on either knee, allowing the low hum of ambient reishi to tickle his senses.<p>

Uryuu peeked one eye open; alone at last. Sensei had left ten minutes ago to buy pudding for their snack (Uryuu hoped they still had vanilla flavour), like usual, but he'd continued his exercises because more often than not it was a fake out - to see what Uryuu did when not being watched. That in mind, he got up and dusted himself off moving swiftly into his first kata.

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><p>That day it took;<p>

Half a second, for the Ver Pflichtend to render him motionless.

One hour, before the binding spell weakened enough for him to break.

Two hours, for the Shinigami to respond.

Five giant-class hollows, to kill Ishida Soken.

* * *

><p>'What... What <em>is<em> this?' said one of the black-clad men under his breath.

The training grounds were in ruins. Stone, dirt, and grass all strewn haphazardly as if a tornado had passed through. Smoke and blood clogged the air. The bloody remnants of a hollow battle caked the ground. At the centre of it all stood a small boy, panting and covered in gore, no older than nine or ten.

And then his bow was drawn up and levelled at their heads. The Shinigami squadron stopped their advance. A few of them noticed the ravaged corpse at his feet and cringed at the thought of what the boy had undoubtedly had to see.

'Uryuu,' said the blond-haired man they'd brought with them. He sounded calm; nothing like the urgent tones he'd used on the way there. 'That's quite enough,' he said sternly. The Shinigami squad dived, all four of them hitting the ground just before the holy arrow sang its presence above their heads. The wall behind them exploded. The blond-haired man kept on walking.

None of them knew what transpired between ducking for cover and helping each other up, but suddenly they were watching a little boy wail into his father's shoulder. One of the senior members of the Shinigami squadron, one who had been through the Academy before they'd taken the Annihilation off of the curriculum, wondered if Yamamoto Genryusai had ever heard the sound of a Quincy child's despair.

* * *

><p>It was the second time Ichigo had met him and the second funeral he had attended, both in a year. Ichigo actually volunteered for this one, hearing that the Ishida boy would be there.<p>

It wasn't some twisted sense of obligation to the other boy that had compelled him to go. It was more that Ichigo owed him something - and he didn't like owing people.

So they sat together much like the first time; off on their own with plates of food, away from the sympathisers and away from their fathers. At another time in his life Ichigo might have made small talk, he might have waxed lyrical about the latest client at the clinic, he might have even made a joke.

Instead he remembered words said nearly nine months ago, neither out of malice nor comfort, but curiosity; 'What was he like?'

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><p>_.~*~._<p>

* * *

><p><em>'Otou-san,' A face peeked out from under the blanket, 'Please?'<em>

_Isshin patted his youngest twin's head. 'If you go to sleep,' he said, looking directly at the bed pushed up against the opposite wall, 'You too, Karin.'_

_Karin jumped from her bed and scrambled into Yuzu's. Isshin coughed away the lumps in his throat. Their daughters were growing into beautiful young women, and it still hurt to think Masaki couldn't share this with him._

_'The one about how you met,' Karin ordered._

_'How who met?' Isshin teased, tucking his girls into bed. The door opened and light crept into the room._

_'How you and Kaa-san met.'_

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><p>'You deserve this for flirting with him like that,' A hand made contact with Orihime's face, 'Batting those eyelashes to get whatever you want.' The sting of salty tears on raw flesh did wonders for her concentration, without which she might have missed the scissors in their hands.<p>

'Y'know, I don't think I like this colour.'

She was still in her team uniform, she told herself. It was something she'd worked so hard for; skipping lunch to practice her pitching, arguing non-stop with the captain and coach, putting up with all the hours of conditioning - she would not struggle, she would not get any blood on it.

Someone took hold of her hair and pulled hard, 'Keep her still!'

What would her team mates say? She couldn't tell them. Not after she'd finally won their approval - no, not after they had finally accepted her as a friend - but then that was what got her in this situation in the first place, wasn't it?

The hands that restrained her were cruel, feminine things; well manicured and smelling of moisturiser. Orihime held her breath, waiting for the first cut.

* * *

><p><em>Ichigo fumbled his way onto Yuzu's bed, squishing in the middle and cradling his sisters in his arms. Isshin was glad they'd gotten Yuzu a bigger bed. Though she only had nightmares every so often now and hardly ever thrashed around any more it was good for nights like these when the family needed to be close to each other. Isshin could hardly believe it had been two years already.<em>

_'So,' their father said in his best "storytelling" voice, 'You wanna know how your old man got the girl?'_

_'Get on with it Goat-Face,' grumbled Ichigo. Yuzu giggled and Karin snorted._

_He smiled indulgently. 'It all began when your Papa fell from heaven,' said Isshin, dropping his pretence and letting his eyes become unfocussed, 'His fellow captain angels were always on his case about leaving without notice, you see - but his lieutenant, Ran-chan, was worst of all...'_

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><p>Tatsuki held ice to her face while she cried. 'What the hell were you thinking Orhime?' Her best friend scolded lightly. Orihime felt a gentle hand in her hair, which was now much lighter than she was used to. It was a jagged cut. A few hunks of the stuff was still long where they hadn't laid into her with their blades.<p>

Orihime pinched a few strands between her fingers and took a moment to look at herself in the bathroom mirror. It was salvageable. Ah, but what would Sora say? He always loved to comb her hair. Lately, it was all they ever did together.

Well, this saved her the trouble of paying for a proper haircut.

* * *

><p><em>'Your mother was a warrior priestess. She came to Papa's rescue. She was clever, your Kaa-san was. The monster that came after me was too fast for her to shoot down, so she waited for her chance.<em>

_'She held it down and shot it... Papa had never seen someone so beautiful.'_

_'Would you believe it? A captain saved by a human girl - the shame.' _

* * *

><p>They weren't hideous. She could admit that. It was the fact that Sora expected her to take them.<em><br>_

For as long as Orihime could remember, they'd never gotten each other gifts. It just wasn't practical. They'd never been all that wealthy really - they were lucky to even scrape by in their small rented duplex. Some months, when work was slow and Sora only made enough for their bills, they would live on goodwill allowances sent to Orihime by a distant great-aunt. And when that ran out; they went hungry.

So when Sora had gone out and used the money he'd sweated for day and night to buy her _hair ornaments, _Orihime wanted to scream. 'Hime,' he pleaded from the other side of the sliding door, 'You don't have to keep them, just - just come and eat.'

* * *

><p><em>'Tou-san escaped punishment by the skin of his ass -' Isshin coughed, 'Nose.' Ichigo, the only one awake by then, snickered drowsily.<em>

_'Captain Commander Ojii-sama only let him go because Papa was his favourite. It wasn't long before he went back to Earth to play. Papa always regretted not saying goodbye to Ran and Shi-chan, but he knew he was leaving his company in good hands.' Ichigo's eyes drifted closed._

_'And by chance, or maybe destiny, he met Kaa-san again.'_

_'...Oyaji?'_

_'Doushita no?'_

_'I miss her.'_

* * *

><p>There must have been something in Ichigo's voice when he yelled <em>'Oyaji!' <em>that made his father come running.

Ichigo lingered at the doorway leading to the kitchen where Orihime and Tatsuki sat waiting. Tatsuki had an arm around her best friend, who was slumped over and nursing a cup of tea gone cold long ago.

It had been a hit and run. Inoue Sora died on a clinic bed while Ichigo's father was on speaker-phone arranging the hospital transfer. Ichigo repeated a casualty report inside his head; a habit he'd acquired over the years as the never-ending stream of clients came into the clinic for everything from scraped knees to broken bones. _Chest and head trauma. One fractured femur and a ruptured aorta._

It was almost dark. All three adolescents spent the day in the kitchen, Ichigo only leaving briefly to walk his sisters to school. At first Orihime was crying and Tatsuki was shouting and Goat-Face was making calls (the school, the police, the Ishidas) and Ichigo just kept on making tea. Then it was lunch time and Ichigo was making sandwiches, and Goat-Face came in to tell Orihime they were taking the body to the hospital to do some paperwork.

And now Ichigo was back after picking Yuzu and Karin up from school. Not that he needed to - Uryuu said he'd take care of them - Ichigo just wanted to give the girls space before he went crazy or drowned in tea leaves. Ichigo was familiar enough with grief to have some idea of what someone grieving needed.

He stepped through the threshold of the door and into the kitchen. It was time to start dinner.

* * *

><p><em>Good morning Hime! I hope you slept well~ Onii-chan left early for work today. Breakfast is on the table, just heat it up and eat it up!<em>

_Guess what? Onii-chan got the job! I wanted to surprise you yesterday but, well (^_^')._

_It's a bit further away and I have to leave a little earlier than normal (I can't walk you and Tatsuki to school any more), but the pay is much better so I can afford to spoil my princess now._

_I'm sorry you didn't like them much. Onii-chan must have terrible taste... Well if you wait just a bit after school today, we can go and pick out something from the market. How does that sound?_

_Onii-chan loves you to the moon and back, Hime. Have a great day!_

* * *

><p>_.~*~._<p>

* * *

><p>'Must you always do this?'<p>

Ichigo scoffed and gently shrugged off the helping hand. 'M'fine Uryuu,' He went through the casualty report, 'Go check on the other guy.' Three ninth graders; all of them sporting similar injuries. _Two fractured wrists. One broken nose. Blunt force trauma to the jaw and stomach. Thee possible minor concussions. One soiled pair of pants._

Not bad at all.

Uryuu went to examine the person who Ichigo had assisted, opening up the bag hanging off his shoulder. 'Oh I'm alright, thanks,' said the giant, 'Your friend is bleeding though.' Ichigo touched a hand to his forehead. It came away slightly bloodier than before.

He grinned, and said; 'So I am.' And at the same time Uryuu said; 'We aren't friends.'

* * *

><p>Sado Yasutora looked between the two of them. One, a half-manic looking orange-haired young man who was grinning while he bled from multiple wounds. The other, a bespectacled bystander (...?) who was now cleaning and dressing the other boy's cuts after saying a week ago that they weren't friends. He wasn't sure whether to laugh or slowly back away - his common sense (and their reputation) screamed for him to do the latter.<p>

'Second time in the same amount of weeks. Must be destiny,' said the orange-haired boy, 'Don't mind him. He has a stick up his ass about nearly everything. Thanks for the help, by the way.' He held his hand out to be wrapped in gauze. 'You're wearing our uniform, but I haven't seen you around...?'

The black-haired boy answered before could Sado gather his wits; 'Sado Yasutora. He transferred in this term. He's in your class.'

'Sonna? That means he's our age.'

Sado blinked.

'Chad?' asked Ichigo.

'Sado,' the giant corrected.

'Chad, like Chad Smith,' came the reply. Sado said nothing, and the other boy raised his eyebrows, 'Dominic Chad?'

'It's Celtic,' Uryuu chimed in, 'It means "strong warrior", I believe.'

'Chad,' Ichigo reiterated. He clenched and unclenched his freshly wrapped fists, 'I would have finished earlier if they hadn't used rocks.' Uryuu rolled his eyes and packed away his things.

'Anyway,' said Ichigo, stepping out of the alley, 'Where're you from?'

* * *

><p>'Do you enjoy fighting?' asked Chad. Ichigo scratched the back of his neck. It was the second time they'd bailed the young giant out of a scape. 2:1, to team Ichiyuu.<p>

'I suppose,' he said carefully, 'It's good for venting, but I can get that from sparring,' Ichigo looked over at where Chad was picking at a band-aid, 'I don't look for fights, if that's what you're asking.'

Uryuu stepped out of the convenience store in time to hear him say the last few bits of his sentence, and crinkling his nose he said; 'God help us if he did. They find him well enough on their own.'

Ichigo snatched the plastic bag out of Uryuu's grasp, 'What are you in the mood for; Chocolate or coffee? Uryuu has dibs on vanilla as usual so don't bother.'

'Chocolate, please,' said the giant. Ichigo handed out the pudding packets and stuffed the bag into his pocket. He began digging into his coffee-flavoured snack with relish as they walked in the general direction of Kurosaki Clinic.

'You find fighting distasteful, Sado-kun?' said Uryuu, 'I... noticed you weren't doing much to defend yourself before Ichigo turned up, if you don't mind me saying.'

Chad paused in the middle of his eating, 'My Abuelo taught me to protect,' he ducked his head as if embarrassed, 'I promised not to use my fists for my own gain. I promised my Abuelo.'

'I see.' Uryuu made no other comment.

* * *

><p>A foot slammed into the face of the person taunting him. The delinquent in dreadlocks went flying. Chad turned to see Uryuu standing behind him working his way through the knots. A few metres away, Ichigo was busy retrieving his coin medallion.<p>

'Hora, hora, pay attention will you? We're here too!' said one of the leader's underlings. Ichigo looked up from where he was restraining their boss and nodded in Chad's direction. Chad heard the unmistakeable sound of a dial tone.

'Ah moshi-moshi. I'd like to request an ambulance,' Uryuu had taken his phone out and was balancing it between his shoulder and ear while he untied the cable, 'Eh, how many?' Chad heard him count under his breath. _'One, two, three, four, _five young men... Nishi-Toriya district two, under the Onose river bridge. Hai. Arigatou gozaimasu.'

Uryuu came around to the front of the chair and unwound the metal coil. '_Ten minutes!_' He shouted over his shoulder where a fist fight had broken out.

'Wakatta!' Ichigo answered, laughing like a madman.

'Daijoubu ka?' Uryuu asked, helping Chad up from the chair, 'We seem to be seeing each other a lot lately. Are you sure you aren't stealing Ichigo's bullies?'

'Un,' he said, rubbing soreness out of his arms, 'They had tasers but they ran out of battery...'

* * *

><p>It was all well and good when you preached pacifism while you were safe, but Chad's attitude would one day get him seriously hurt.<p>

Ichigo had known many people like the ones he had saved Chad from. They liked having power over others; it made them feel better about whatever problem they had with the world. People like Chad - people like Ichigo - stood to threaten that power, whether they were doing it on purpose or not.

They took one look at the bright orange hair that contradicted his honours student status and they saw someone who could not be ignored. And they responded to his existence in kind, often with bullying and abuse; it wasn't hard to see Chad falling in the same category as him.

Ichigo informed the giant of his thoughts.

Beside him Uryuu pushed his glasses up and nodded, 'It would be foolish to let yourself get beaten up by those sorry excuses for human deluge.' That summed it up quite nicely.

'Exactly,' Ichigo said, feeling a spark of inspiration, 'How 'bout this. You won't ever have to fight for your own sake any more - not if we can help it - but in return you gotta fight for us, yeah? And we'll fight for you.' Uryuu was speaking even before Ichigo's elbow dug into his ribs.

'And if you have something you wish to protect with your life; we will protect it with our lives.'

Ichigo smirked. He could expect good things from Chad if Uryuu took a liking to him. 'So,' he said, holding up his fist, 'Are we in agreement?'

* * *

><p>_.~*~._<p>

* * *

><p>'Where are you right now? Didn't you hear what I said last night? Don't call me while I'm with someone! I made myself <em>clear<em> yet you just call over and over - Are you _listening_ Mizuiro?'

The slender woman wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek, 'Calling your mother again? You're a sweetie.' He flipped the phone closed and grinned.

'I don't have a mother.' He turned and wrapped his arms around her. She was taller than him even without heels, she wore the lightest dusting of make-up, she knew how to take care of herself, and she did not demand expensive gifts or pretty words - only a bit of company and attention - just the way he liked it.

'Ara,' she teased, 'Don't say that. C'mon, go get your coat - you wouldn't want to be late for your first day of high school, ne?'

He pulled away. Freshly pressed and draped over an expensive couch was his uniform jacket. Behind him a pair of keys jingled. 'Do you want a lift? Just this once though, since you've been so good to me.'

'Thanks.'

* * *

><p><em>Hello? Hello?<em>

_This is me calling the world... Come in..._

_Are our cords connected correctly?_

_Looks like my Earth is rotating properly._

_All systems green._

_Communication: Failed._

* * *

><p>'Kurosaki, Sado, and Ishida from Mashiba Junior High?'<p>

'Un!' Keigo said, gripping his hair, 'They're all coming to _this_ school. I'm serious here!' Mizuiro opened up his student guide and kept on walking.

'What's the big deal?'

Keigo gaped at him. 'What's the big _deal?_ They're delinquents! Well, two of them are. Rumour has it that Ishida fell in with the wrong crowd and now he's their gopher. They hang around with the _Yakuza, _Mizuiro. Ya. Ku. Za. They smoke and drink and people say that they started smuggling drugs when they were 12, a-and they once held up a 7-Eleven!'

Mizuiro didn't look up. First day nerves often got to Keigo like this. It was the same the year before, and the year before that. 'You've never met them, so you don't know what they're really like.'

'Have you seen them? Kurosaki looks like he's been bleaching his hair since birth... And he's got a black belt in karate! Sado is over seven feet tall. Not to mention Ishida - they say he can get them out of anything since his dad is...'

Mizuiro had stopped listening halfway through Keigo's last rant. They'd walked all the way to the class lists and he was checking for his name. 'Ah look, we're in the same class this year.'

'Oh my sweet _Jesus. _We-we're in the same class as _them!'_

* * *

><p>'I'm Kojima Mizuiro from Hiragi Junior High, I'm in class 1-3.'<p>

'1-3 huh? I'm Kurosaki Ichigo. That's Ishida Uryuu. The big guy's called Chad. We're in 1-3 as well.'

The one called Chad bowed, 'Yoroshiku.'

Ishida grunted from between the pages of a book.

Mizuiro smiled. If you ignored their spectacular entrance (Kurosaki and Chad punching Oshima's gang six ways to Sunday and Ishida casually walking behind them) they seemed like nice people.

'So who's he?' Kurosaki asked, pointing over Mizuiro's head. Ah. He'd almost forgotten.

'That's Asano Keigo,' said Mizuiro. He stood shoulder to shoulder with the three young men he'd just met to watch his best friend get stepped on. The facts tumbled out; 'His grades aren't that good, but he's really smart. He's good for music and favours mostly, but he's actually much nicer than I am.'

'Hmm. Wow.' Mizuiro felt the orange-haired boy's appraising eye on him.

'Huh?'

Kurosaki took a few steps forward, unzipping his jacket, 'I dunno, it's just unusual for a guy to praise their friend like that.' Mizuiro saw Ishida stick a hand out in front of Chad to stop his own advance.

'Kojima?'

'Hai?'

'Are you any good at coming up with excuses?'

'Pathologically so.'

'Wonderful. Uryuu sucks at them and I'm going to need a real good one in about five minutes so I don't get suspended for saving Asano's skin.' Mizuiro raised his eyebrows and glanced at Kurosaki's companions.

Chad had his hands in his pockets, trying to look impassive but only managing to come off as antsy. Ishida had a long-suffering type of glaze over his eyes, like this wasn't the first time something like this had happened.

Kurosaki Ichigo charged.

* * *

><p><em>This happiness... Who should I tell about it?<em>

* * *

><p>'They weren't what we expected,' said Keigo offhandedly.<p>

The phone screen's eerie glow lit up Mizuiro's chin. He scrolled between contacts absently, looking more intently at the road disappearing under his feet and listening to the clack of the bike.

'Not at all,' he replied.

'Who would have thought?'

'Yep.'

The screen went dark.

* * *

><p><em>We're all connected to this world by countless cords - like patients in the ICU.<em>

_We try hard not to let any of the cords get severed._

* * *

><p>'Aren't you gonna call Nanako today?'<p>

* * *

><p><em>But the truth is, no matter how hard you try they still break. <em>

_And it's very hard to put them back the way they were._

* * *

><p>'No. Not today.'<p>

* * *

><p><em>I still can't do it.<em>

* * *

><p>'...Good.'<p>

* * *

><p><em>Hello? Hello-o?<em>

_This is me calling my new world... __I'm so glad I met you..._

_Will our cords be connected correctly?_

_Is my Earth rotating properly?_

_All systems red._

_Communication: Excellent._

* * *

><p>_.~*~._<p> 


	2. The Notebook of Kurosaki Ichigo

**Notes:** Alternate universe with multiple (major) points of departure.

Australian grammar/spelling/punctuation habits.

Anything that isn't canon is _probably_ on purpose. Canon constitutes all manga arcs, NOT ANIME. Liberties taken with timeline. A few chapters planned out, nothing too concrete yet.

SPOILERS. Those who have not read past ch.600 or so have been warned.

Don't own any of the recognisable characters or events. All credit to "Tits" Kubo.

**Warnings: **Language, Made-up stuff, Rational!Ichigo

* * *

><p><strong>2. The Notebook of Kurosaki Ichigo<strong>

* * *

><p><span><em>The Spiritual Cipher<br>_

_Need To Answer:_

_1. Are ghosts/spirits/etc. self-aware entities with free will or a collection of memories and/or a personality imprinted into a place or object? That is, are they actual_ _souls__ or "supernatural" phenomena? _

_2. There are not enough ghosts around to compensate for the amount of dead people. This could mean;_

_ a) Not all dead become ghosts._

_ b) Not all ghosts can be seen._

_ c) Ghosts are not eternal beings._

_ d) There is an afterlife._

_ e) Not all ghosts make it there._

_3. Do ghosts feel pain?_

_4. How many senses do ghosts have? (sight notwithstanding)_

_5. Why do some of them retain wounds from when they died?_

_6. Can ghosts touch each other?_

_7. Can they influence the surrounding environment, and if so to what extent?_

_8. What quality allows them to go through solid objects and be invisible to (most) people?_

_9. Are there places that they can't go (positing that said ghost is not bound to any one place or object)? i.e. salt circles, wards, temples, outer space?_

_10. Statistically speaking, there has to be more than one person who can see them out of six billion+ warm bodies. Who else can see ghosts? _

_11. Where do they go when they disappear - and why do they sometimes leave behind bloodstains? (refer to question 2.)_

_12. What the fuck is with the chains in their chests?_

* * *

><p><em>Notes and Observations:<em>

_3. Someone walked through a ghost today - no reaction from either party. No visible signs of injury inflicted on the ghost. (It was rather offended though, confirmation of genuine emotion?). _

_6 and 7. Watched a pair of ghosts play catch with each other today using a discarded tennis ball. It's amazing what people don't notice. The tennis ball seemed to be the only thing they could influence of the outside world. All spirits encountered to date have been unaffected by natural stimuli; i.e. rain and wind. _

_1. Ghosts have memories. They have standard ability to recall facts from when they were alive, though this ability varies among each spirit. A small amount of ghosts so far encountered have been able to make new memories and retain them - many do not acknowledge the outside world or have not made any effort to communicate and do not respond to attempts at communication. All spirits have been observed to have free will and the ability to make decisions. _

_9. Got laughed at for suggesting salt circles. No ghosts have been observed to be floating further than a few feet over the highest earthbound structure in Karakura Town. Research on wards and temples is pending._

_8. Bumped into a ghost today. People who can see ghosts have the ability to touch them, then? WHY? Inconclusive proof. Will have to experiment further._

_2. Only recently became aware that ghosts talk to each other about anything at all. Spirits do not stick around for long, apparently. Well, to them. The longest known time is currently four years of "drifting". __A few that have been encountered so far have already disappeared. Wild guesses include;_

_ a) Exorcisms_

_ b) "Passing on" - that is, moving to the Afterlife_

_ c) Someone, or something, is "killing" them._

_ d) All of the above, simultaneously._

_(a) Is absurd, but possible. Who, though? And why the fluctuating response time? A few days after death to four whole years is a very large margin of error. An even more ludicrous notion - organised exorcisms? How many exorcists are needed to handle the entire world of people dying? Too large a number to hide from society to be a viable option, ignoring the possibility of a singular, all powerful Grim Reaper, of course. _

_(b) The Afterlife, if real, has very heavy implications on current belief systems. One Afterlife for all souls? Heaven? Hell? What about reincarnation? If the disappearing ghosts are moving onto the Afterlife, is it because their souls have been "put to rest"? Does this then imply that if someone dies with unfinished business, they won't be able to pass on?_

_(c) If ghosts can be murdered then who or what has the ability to harm something that is for all intents and purposes_ _intangible?__ Evil spirits? Demons? _

_The possibility of (d) being true is personally worrying._

_12. The length of a chain differs with each spirit. All chains are similar in that they are broken. Suggests that it was connected to something, once upon a time. A chain that connects the soul to the body, then? Is the length of the chain significant?_

_10. Don Kanonji has been confirmed as someone who can see spirits. Unbelievably, he is a genuine psychic. Confirms the theory that there are other people with "sight" as well. What factors allow them to see ghosts? Possibilities include;_

_ a) Genetics._

_ b) Life experiences._

_ c) Something "other" about the person. (i.e. having something like "The Force" or "Ki")_

_(a) While being scientifically sound, makes little sense unless family members (Yuzu, Karin, Goat-Face, Kaa-san) can see spirits too. There is the possibility that only Kurosaki Masaki could see ghosts and only passed that particular gene to one of her children. If so, then which gene or combination of genes?_

_(b) Seeing somebody die, being around dead people, taking a life - all possible situations that could "open" someone's eyes to ghosts. Can easily be dismissed by the fact that doctors, morticians, and murderers witness death and are around the dead quite a bit and none have reported seeing ghosts._

_(c) Is as absurd as organised exorcisms. (But would make a lot of sense)_

* * *

><p>Isshin stopped reading. Not for lack of material, but because the information was finally sinking in. His son could see ghosts. The seal - Ichigo's at least - had broken.<p>

The notebook in his hands was filled with similar notes as those that he had read; pages and pages worth of Ichigo's thoughts, observations, experiments, diagrams and samples. There were questions that no one he knew of had ever asked before about semantics and morals and (Isshin had to laugh at this) Gotei 13's efficiency.

He was reminded inexplicably of Kisuke and his scientific mind, and by extension, the man's penchant for plotting and scheming. He hoped Benihime wasn't out of practice - it would take at least a sword to Isshin's throat to stop him throttling the infuriating manipulator he had for a friend.

* * *

><p>'Well, he's very smart,' said Kisuke, setting the notebook down on the kitchen table and fanning himself lazily. He seemed not to notice the mild rage radiating off his long-time friend.<p>

'I know,' said Isshin stiffly, 'You think I don't?'

Kisuke pushed the brim of his hat up, 'I was under the impression Ichigo was more of an athlete. You can't blame me for assuming, I mean; a black belt, a few years of kenjutsu and - did I read about some archery tournament in the paper? He hardly seems the... experimenting type is all.'

Isshin smiled grudgingly, anger ebbing, 'He hides it well, but under all of the suspensions for street fighting is an honours student who grew up on detective novels and medical textbooks. How could you have missed that, Kisuke? All of the training was my influence, anyway.'

The shopkeeper whistled, 'He has a head for it, from what I can see. His methods are somewhat - messy, but I've seen worse.' An undertone of wonder made it's way into Kisuke's voice despite his casual words, making Isshin swell with pride.

'Again, I know,' the man said, the last of his anger leaving him, 'It's too early though - I can't protect them yet.' Isshin's eyebrows crinkled, the only outward sign of his distress, 'How long before he runs into a Shinigami? What are the odds that my son, the boy who did _this,'_ he poked the notebook hard, 'Won't start asking the right questions?'

'It is... likely, but less so with me around,' answered Kisuke, 'And there aren't odds - I know his type - he'll probably never stop asking questions.' He pulled his bucket hat down again, and sat up, 'Isshin; I can't halt his abilities without damage to his soul - and even if I could, I couldn't take the boy's memories away again.'

Isshin nodded reservedly. He had expected so. Kisuke hesitated, before asking, 'What does Ryuuken say about this?'

Isshin shook his head, 'I only found the notebook tonight. I doubt Ryuuken knows yet - we haven't been over for a month now, and from Ichigo's notes it started a little after that - but Uryuu has probably noticed the increase in Ichigo's reiatsu. I can barely feel it, in my state, but it has to be significant for me to be able to feel _anything._'

Kisuke frowned, 'How long before they're back?'

'A year? Six months? Ichigo's presence might speed it...' Isshin's eyes widened, 'Oh.'

'Yes, _oh._' Kisuke's eyes changed as he made quick calculations, the genial mask slipping from his face for the first time in years. 'I'll keep an eye out. Tell Ryuuken, too. The hollows will grow restless soon enough.'

* * *

><p>Kisuke smiled widely to himself. He would have felt guilty about bending the truth and hiding his emotions from Isshin, but his sheer excitement at what had just happened numbed all other sensation.<p>

Of course he'd known Ichigo was an honours student, he'd been keeping tabs on the boy for years now - not to mention everything else. He really wouldn't have pinned Ichigo as the type to experiment or analyse and yet there in his hands had been detailed (if a bit all over the place) records of his research. There was having high marks, and then there was being brilliant. When reading the young Kurosaki's notes, apart from being increasingly impressed and alarmed at the rate the boy was advancing, Kisuke had concluded that Ichigo fell well and truly into the "brilliant" category.

Kisuke had only just stopped himself from asking to keep the book so he could keep looking through them.

It reminded him of a very young, very untrained version of himself. Except with so much more potential. There were so few Shinigami who had the insatiable curiosity that drove humans (Kisuke supposed it had something to do with being dead for so long), so it was _nice_ to know not everyone had stalled. Kisuke had wanted to slap his long-time friend for his actions, knowing that the man was responsible for the boy's training in the martial arts, something that had probably stifled the boy's progress as - well, as someone who _enjoyed_ discovery.

But it seemed that whatever Isshin had done, it clearly hadn't worked as well as he'd assumed - the boy possessed a healthy appetite for knowledge and a sharp, almost intuitive intellect.

Kisuke hummed a tune. Hopefully, it would be a long time before that intellect was put to the test.

* * *

><p>_.~*~._<p>

* * *

><p>It took two weeks for Ichigo to mistake one for a real person after he'd started noticing them. It hadn't happened since. He could see them and hear them and if he wanted to he could <em>touch <em>them. They had memories. They retained wounds gained in death. For Christ's sake, they had philosophical _conversations_ with him. It was all a bit bullshit, in Ichigo's most humble opinion.

A week after making his mistake, Ichigo first saw bloodstains no one else could see. It had been a small boy, dead from a car accident, lingering by the electricity post where he'd been run down. When he'd come by with some of his old toys, the boy's companion - an old man wearing tattered winter clothes - merely shook his head. The crimson ground the boy once stood on was wet to the touch - so real that Ichigo had had to wash his hands even though no one else could see.

Another ghost had gone missing and Ichigo was powerless.

'Does it hurt when people go through you?' asked Ichigo. 'Can you feel anything at all?'

The girl ghost, Kiri, cocked her head unblinkingly, 'Iie. I try to stay out of the way, most of the time. No one has ever tried to go through me before...'

Ichigo frowned. He too had never tried going through a ghost in all the time he'd started seeing them (not that that was particularly long, or anything). He added a few more scribbles to the dog-eared notebook.

His next question was out of his mouth before he even finished writing. 'Do your wounds hurt? Do you ever start bleeding?'

That one seemed to take Kiri by surprise, 'Eh? Nothing really hurts. Not even my head.' Ichigo had freaked out the first time he encountered Kiri and her head wound. Half of her face was covered in dark brown crusted blood and there was a long, open gash on the crown of her head. If he hadn't spotted her feet floating off the ground he might have dragged her back to the clinic. 'This,' she pointed to the chain on her torso, 'It makes my chest hurt sometimes, but that's all. Ne, Onii-chan, will you bring flowers tomorrow?'

Spirits were unpredictable things. You couldn't question them endlessly - even if they had all the time in the world. Ichigo didn't mind bringing offerings and keeping them company for a bit in exchange for information. 'Daisies, right? Yeah, I'll be by tomorrow afternoon.' She smiled and nodded, floating off without another word.

Ichigo closed his notebook and got up off the swing, stowing his things and checking his watch. It was 5:37pm. 'Kuso!' He bolted.

* * *

><p><em>Need To Answer:<em>

_13. Offerings - do they help?_

_14. Can a spirit be bound to something? Place/object/person/animal?_

_15. Are there different kinds of spirits? That is, are there groups of spirits with distinguishing features?_

* * *

><p>'You're <em>late<em> Ichigo-o!'

Ichigo caught the oncoming side kick. He brought his hand to the space under his father's knee and wiggled his fingers. Isshin fell on his ass, shrieking (yes, shrieking) with laughter.

From somewhere above them Yuzu called out. 'Ichigo-nii? Is that you?'

'No, it's the postman,' he replied. Isshin made a gargling sound as Ichigo put him in a headlock. Karin came out from the living room to see what all the commotion was about. She crossed her arms. For an eleven year old Karin had extraordinary sneering skills.

'What are you _doing_ Goat-Face?' she said, rounding on the struggling mass pinned under Ichigo's knee, 'We're going to be late as it is!'

It was at that point that Ichigo remembered why he'd rushed home. Karin twitched, 'Well? What are you waiting for Ichi-nii? Go get changed!' Yuzu came down the stairs just as he rushed up.

'Ah Nii-chan, how do I look?' She was wearing a dress. It looked like any other dress. Ichigo told her so. He entered his room with a sore head.

He dumped his things under his bed and rifled through the clothing hamper for something to wear before remembering where they were going. Clicking his teeth he dug around for an unwrinkled shirt inside his chest of drawers. A knock at the open door made him stop. Isshin leaned against the door frame.

'Where were you?'

Ichigo turned around. 'Nowhere. Out.'

'Ichigo,' his father said in warning tones.

'I was with a girl,' He deadpanned. Isshin seemed to choke on his own saliva. 'Was there something else?' He located a nice black tee and shoved the rest of the clothes back in without folding them.

Isshin sighed, 'Nothing. I'm here Ichigo. That's all. Oh, and have you seen Karin's bokken?' Ichigo changed into the new shirt. It was just like Isshin to try and get deep and meaningful only two minutes after attacking his fifteen-year-old son. Ichigo grimaced at his old man.

'I know you're here Oyaji,' he said evenly, 'Always have been. Have you checked the garage?'

His father's answering grin was blinding. 'Downstairs in five minutes, okay?'

'Yeah.'

* * *

><p><em>Notes and Observations:<em>

_7. Wonder if spirits can effect fields. They must be made of something, right? Could an EMP hurt a ghost? _

_14. Reports of ghosts chained to structures are unconfirmed, but positive. The chain coming from the chest can extend, then? Investigation pending._

_9. Temples, holy places and memorial sites do not stop ghosts any better than doors and walls. Possibly because available temples in Karakura Town are limited, and not a good representative sample of all temples, or because there are no such things as "holy places". Research on wards, seals, and charms pending._

* * *

><p>'Good to see you again, Ryuuken-ji-san,' Ichigo said once his father finished clapping the man in the back.<p>

The eldest Ishida nodded once. Karin and Yuzu bowed to the man briefly. Ryuuken smiled (_smiled_) at them and raised a questioning eyebrow.

And that was the end of their relative peace. Yuzu shoved Karin out of the way and jumped on the man, dropping the formalities. He caught her with one arm and offered the other to Karin, who righted herself and charged. Ichigo barely got out of the way fast enough. Ryuuken squeezed both of them and gave Isshin a smug smirk.

'Missed ya' Ryuu-ji,' said Karin.

'I missed him more!' said Yuzu.

'It's only been two months,' grumbled their father.

Ryuuken could not have looked more pleased with himself as he addressed Ichigo, 'Uryuu is in the gym.'

'Thanks.' Ichigo gave him a fleeting salute and walked off, leaving his father and sisters to catch up with their favourite uncle. Who'd have thought that the stoic man he'd first met all those years ago would be weak against Yuzu's laugh and Karin's smile - but then again, who wasn't? Sometimes, Ichigo wondered if Ryuu-ji only kept his father around because of the twins.

Ichigo slid the door away just as an arrow sank into it's target. It buried itself deep into the centre ring. He clapped, 'Impressive Mr. Ishida. I'm envious.'

Uryuu lowered his bow, 'I'm sure you could manage at least that much, Mr. Kurosaki.'

'Ha,' said Ichigo, coming up to the equipment rack, 'It's been a while so don't get your hopes up.' He strapped on a wrist-guard and grabbed one of the spare bows, pausing only to test the string. Ichigo took his own unorthodox stance beside Uryuu and picked an arrow from the bamboo container.

He notched, aimed, and drew, only to have Uryuu nudge his feet into a different position and re-adjust his arms with pokes. Rolling his eyes, Ichigo inhaled and released. The arrow ended up half an inch away from the line that divided the middle ring from the centre. Next to him, Uryuu crossed his arms.

'Not bad. Is dinner ready yet?'

Ichigo sniffed, 'Karate's more my thing. Give me a sword, even - lord knows I did that for long enough. They'll send someone soon.' As if on queue, the door slid open again to reveal his sisters hand in hand, both wearing identical evil grins.

An hour later, Ichigo was breathing hard, nursing a newly emerging bruise on his upper arm, and regretting ever getting his sister a bokken. This was why his instructors told him never to spar with them, he supposed. The wooden sword was carved to be hollow and was extremely lightweight, and Karin only managed to land one significant blow (which she would hold over him until the day he died) but when she hit, she hit _hard_.

Ichigo knew why she liked this form of sparring. The exercises they made her do in Kendo class could be likened to long-range target practice. You looked, you aimed, you fired - Ichigo himself had quickly gotten bored with the practice once the novelty of using a sword wore off, switching to kenjutsu. Uryuu had won his shooting-thingy with Yuzu by twenty points - four head-shots that she missed and he didn't. Ichigo glanced over at where his friend was fixing Yuzu's stance. They were a family deeply involved with the martial arts, and Ichigo was used to that by now, but damn his sisters were scary.

'Oy, Uryuu, you think we should stop for now? I'm starved.'

* * *

><p><em>Notes and Observations:<em>

_15. Research on different types of spirits has turned up pseudoscience, conspiracy theories, and role playing forums. Nothing worth recording. How does someone classify ghosts? By ability to effect the environment? By length of time spent dead? _

_3. Interviewed ghosts have reported being unable to feel pain from any wounds remaining on their bodies from life. Any and all sensation comes from the chain in their chests. Attempts to remove the chain by hand result in numb, throbbing sensation - likely not a result of nerve endings. _

* * *

><p>'Get out of here. Go!' The scruffy high school students stumbled away dumbly, unsure of what exactly they had done to anger the orange-haired boy. Ichigo stepped back, rubbing his eyes tiredly.<p>

'Since when have you terrorised people for the sake of it?' asked Uryuu.

Ichigo made a face. 'Since never. Look,' he said, pointing. Ichigo bent down and tenderly picked up the kicked over bottle. He filled it from his own drink bottle and retrieved the trampled flowers, 'Give 'em here.'

'This is what we raided Ms. Moriyama's yard for? Here.' The black-haired boy handed over a bundle of daisies. Ichigo arranged them like he'd seen Yuzu do once or twice - he hoped it was okay. When he stood back up Uryuu was looking at him like he expected Ichigo to say something. Kiri chose that moment to appear behind Uryuu, smiling gratefully and waving. Ichigo let his eyes drift momentarily into the air next to Uryuu's head, acknowledging the ghost girl, but said nothing to either of them.

'Can you feel her?' Uryuu asked suddenly.

Ichigo froze. 'Can I - what?'

'The person who died here.'

* * *

><p>_.~*~._<p>

* * *

><p>'Wha -' Ichigo broke off as four pairs of eyes darted to him. He shut his mouth and swallowed the chunk of sandwich that threatened to fall out.<p>

Keigo was the first one to speak, 'You alive there, Ichigo?' Ichigo nodded stiffly, taking an empty spot in between Mizuiro and Tatsuki. Chad was still looking at him strangely. The shock of seeing a small congregation of ghosts _haunt_ his lunch spot must have shown on his face, then.

'Where're Uryuu and Orihime?' he asked.

'Textiles rooms,' said Tatsuki, 'Early prep for the Summer Festival. Sewing club business.'

'Oh. Right.'

Keigo perked up at the mention of the Summer Festival and began bouncing ideas off the four of them about music selections. Ichigo gave non-committal answers and watched as two children poked their arms through his friends' heads, some older gentlemen played Shogi, and a middle-aged woman muttered darkly to herself in the corner.

When the lunch bell rang and they got up to leave, the spirits did so too, all of them standing perilously close to Ichigo. He felt a tug at his sleeve. One of the children was hanging off the cuff of his jacket. 'What is it?' Chad called back from the stairwell. Ichigo's head snapped to face his friend.

'Nothing. Just... caught my sleeve on something.' The girl who had attached herself to him giggled. Ichigo sighed through his nose and went to join Chad on the stairs.

* * *

><p>Ichigo fell onto his bed, still fully dressed, groaning. The spirits had followed him all day; only leaving to wander around behind his friends for half an hour or so before eventually drifting back to him in whatever class he happened to be having. Now, they were camped out in his bedroom.<p>

If Ichigo weren't so dead from having to concentrate on _living _people all day (see what he did there?), he might have had the energy to get excited about this turn of events. Under normal circumstances (if that was even possible any more) he would have seized this opportunity to observe how the spirits interacted when clustered together, he might have even stayed up to monitor them in case one of them happened to disappear - but he was so very dead, and the circumstances were far from normal.

So a moment after his head hit the pillow, Ichigo was asleep.

* * *

><p><em>'Do not fear...'<em>

'Excuse me.'

_'You are going to a restful place...'_

'Hello?'

_'It will not hurt...'_

'What the _fuck _d'you think you're doing!?'

'_Ouch!_ You - you can see me? You _hit_ me!'

* * *

><p>Ichigo brandished his bokken at the intruder, stepping instinctively into a defensive stance. It was a small girl, dressed all in black and wielding a long white katana. The spirits who had followed him home pressed together in a corner, silent and watchful.<p>

'Who are you?' Ichigo demanded, 'Why're you attacking those spirits?'

The girl sniffed shortly, 'Put your stick down, human. You cannot harm me.'

That irritated him. He remembered distinctly being able to hit her; it had been very satisfying. It wasn't as if he went around picking fights with ghosts, or anyone for that matter, but he knew for a fact that if he could touch them then he could defend himself if need be. And she had to be a ghost. Or a type of spirit, at least. She was surprised that he could see her, which meant she expected to be invisible. But... where was her chain?

'You don't know that,' he said, 'What do you want? Are you what's been attacking the ghosts around here? Because if you have I can tell you right now that it isn't earning you any points with whoever runs things in the Afterlife.' He inched forward, ready to jump her, 'I can - I can help you. Find peace, that is.'

The girl choked, and then burst out laughing. Ichigo blinked in confusion. The girl, to her credit, stopped laughing once she noticed. Wiping away the remnants of her hysteria, she straightened her spine and favoured him with a critical eye. 'My name is not your business, but you may call me Rukia, and I do not need your help any more than I have been attacking Wholes. You have been harbouring them, I see. Makes my job a bit easier I suppose - but do not make a habit out of it. You'll find yourself attracting unwanted attention.'

Wholes? Her job? Unwanted attention? 'What the hell are you talking about?'

'You lack intelligence - even for a human. Do I have to spell it out for you? _I am a Shinigami._'

* * *

><p>'So let me get this straight,' Ichigo enunciated his words, 'You,' he pointed to her, 'Are a "Soul Reaper". And you came here to guide them,' he pointed at the spirits still sitting in the corner of his room, 'To the "Soul Society". Which is what we mortals call the Afterlife.'<p>

Rukia (had that been her name?) smirked and crossed her arms in a satisfactory huff. 'Exactly.'

She wasn't dangerous, that he knew at least. She seemed to see him as little more than an ant, or a piece of dirt under her nail. If she had wanted to, she probably would have used her katana to poke some holes in him by now. Not that he'd let her. So Ichigo had lowered his bokken, ordered her to sit down, and did what he was taught to do when making peace (or making anything).

He'd made tea. He'd listened to her story. The next order of business was getting something useful out of it.

It wasn't that he didn't want to believe her. Her job description made a lot of sense, actually. It would certainly explain a few things, as well as open up a whole new world for him to pick apart at the seams. However, Ichigo could only be open minded to a certain point before it turned into blind faith. He was simply disinclined to believe in something without evidence.

So he crossed his own arms and looked her squarely in the eye. 'Prove it.'

Her demeanour changed from triumphant to a mixture of shock and indignity. Ichigo admitted that he could have said it with more tact - but he was never one for niceties, and at the end of the day his own brand of manners got the job done fine.

Rukia rolled her eyes and jabbed a finger at the spirits. 'You lot,' she snapped, 'Get over here.' And Ichigo watched with tensed muscles and racing mind as she stamped the hilt of her sword into each ghost in turn.

His hand itched with the desire to write something, record his thoughts - just in case he forgot them, and just in case they were good - because thoughts were currency you traded for purpose, and good, _useful _thoughts you traded for success. Ichigo was no stranger to stamping down such desires. It was often by reason, that told him he could trust himself to remember and by sense, that told him people were watching. This time it was brute strength of will; telling him that if he started writing now he would be up all night - he needed time to calm down, and maybe to skull some chai.

Rukia finished with the last spirit and sheathed her sword - zanpakuto, she'd called it. 'Is that enough proof for you?' she asked, 'Or would you like a proper demonstration?'

'Where do they go?' he inquired, looking around for blood.

'I told you,' she sat back down, 'They get sent to the Soul Society.' That was a loaded phrase. "Society" connoted order. As in, a government, or a ruling power. And that meant laws. Laws for the dead?

'How big is it?'

'How should I know?' Rukia paused, as if to consider the question herself, 'It's huge. You could spend a thousand years there and not see the whole thing.' That made a modicum of sense. All of the dead people in the world had to be there, he almost assumed, but then -

'You speak Japanese,' he stated, 'How come...?'

'I know not of this "Japanese". We speak one language in the Soul Society - and before you ask, it has no name. You can only understand me because of your spiritual energy - your reiryoku is your connection to the world of the spirits. There is no language in death.' That was a lot to take on. No language?

Ichigo wondered about that. Rukia carried around a katana, no matter what she liked to call it, and it was definitely an Eastern weapon. She was also dressed in decidedly Japanese attire, resembling a scantily dressed samurai, if said samurai happened to be into mod couture. He would need to see this Soul Society for himself at least, before he stopped taking everything she said with a pinch of salt.

Rukia was studying him. Ichigo wondered how many more questions he would be able to ask before she remembered that she needed to be out looking for ghosts to exorcise. Or something like that. 'You said reiryoku.'

Rukia nodded, 'Your spiritual energy. It is tied to you, and is unique to you. Mortals like to call it an "aura". We call it reiatsu. If your reiryoku is your energy, then your reiatsu is the effect your energy has on the surrounding environment. Pressure. Spiritual pressure. The more the pressure, the more reiryoku you likely possess.'

Ichigo really should have gotten a pen out. At this point, he was one false step away from the dark mutterings of that ghost who had followed him home.

'There is also reishi. Those are spirit particles... The world of the living has much less reishi than the Soul Society, where it can be found in much denser concentrations.' Rukia took a sip of her tea and gave an appreciative nod, 'You make good tea, for a human.'

'Thanks.' That was one thing Ichigo was trying to ignore. It the presence of the Shinigami, the ghosts had not been able to go through things any more - their intangibility had been stripped from them. And yet Ichigo did not believe she had done it on purpose. Being able to touch things - to consume food even - was normal for her.

'This has all been very illuminating, but it still doesn't prove anything. All I've seen you do is exorcise a few measly ghosts.'

Rukia downed the last of her beverage, and wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve. 'Close your eyes for a second, human.'

Ichigo raised his eyebrows. Rukia huffed, 'Do you want to see for yourself or not?'

He shut his eyes. 'Now, reach out with your mind. _Do not imagine_. Use your senses. Look beyond what you are able to smell, touch - see. You have high reiryoku, even for a human with spiritual abilities,' she paused, and mumbled, '_Any more and I might have missed the ghosts. They don't prepare you for this at the Academy..._' She coughed, 'For you, this should be simple.'

Ichigo concentrated. It was small, at first. A spark in the darkness. And then all at once he could feel _something._ It was _everywhere, _like it had always been there. It was against his skin, it was tickling his eyes, it went up his nose - he felt it running through his body like blood, except it was an entirely new circulatory system. Ichigo gagged on his own spittle and his eyes flashed open.

Rukia jumped to help him. 'I'm fine,' he said between gasps, 'Just - it was a bit overwhelming.'

'Breathe,' she said, sounding much less superior-being-to-you than before, 'What happened?'

'Shouldn't I be the one asking that?' Ichigo groused. She chopped him over the head in a way that was reminiscent of Yuzu's ladle. He made a frustrated noise and rubbed his temple. 'I felt something,' he said slowly.

'Obviously.'

'It was,' he frowned, searching for a word, 'Vibrating? Sort of. Is that meant to happen?'

'In a sense,' she said. She stood stretching out her legs. 'What you felt was the reishi inside this room. Those with reiryoku can sense it instinctively. Shinigami,' she stuck out her hand, palm up, 'Can use their reiryoku to perform spells.' Ichigo gawked at the ball of light that appeared in her palm, seemingly out of nothing._  
><em>

Now, Ichigo had enjoyed his fair share of sci-fi and fantasy stories - he really had. But that was all they had ever been. _Stories. _The stories his father had told them as kids, the stories he read when he got bored of textbooks, even the largely ridiculous movies he took his sisters to he knew he could enjoy - and that was where he drew the line. Between appreciation and belief, Ichigo could be said to be standing as far from belief as any sane person could stand._  
><em>

And yet here he was; in the company of a Shinigami. A Shinigami who could do... magic? Is that what he wanted to call this thing?

'Demon arts,' Rukia said, 'Kido spells. We use them in battle and for healing.'

Ichigo's hands were going crazy. They twitched with the need to write something - _anything_ - down. He clenched them into fists in his lap.

'I see I have given you much to think about, human,' said Rukia, straightening up and going to his bedroom window. She opened it wide and let the cool night air in. 'I've lingered for far too long. Fare thee well, mortal. Until we meet again.' Ichigo was starting to get annoyed with her I-am-a-mysterious-person-who-can't-talk-normally act. Because it was an act - she had been slipping up from the moment he hit her.

'Ichigo,' he said, 'Not "human", not "mortal". Kurosaki Ichigo.'

'Kuchiki Rukia.'

'See you 'round Rukia.'

* * *

><p>_.~*~._<p>

* * *

><p><span><em>The Shinigami Conundrum<em>

_Need to Answer:_

_1. What do Shinigami have to do with the ghosts who leave behind blood?_

_2. How many are there?_

_3. Who do they work for?_

_4. What is reiryoku/reiatsu/reishi? _

_5. What can it be used for?_

_6. What happens after spirits are sent to the Soul Society?_

_7. What is the Soul Society?_

_8. Where is it? (Parallel universe? Mars?)_

_9. How come they speak one language? (cite; impossible to take care of every dead person. Very Eastern themed clothing.)_

_10. Is the Soul Society possibly just one of many?_

_11. What are a typical Shinigami's abilities?_

_12. Why can't they go through walls?_

_13. Why are they able to consume food?_

_14. What else do they need zanpakuto for?_

_15. Why only send one to a large town like Karakura?_

_16. Is 15. the cause of spirits staying on Earth for 4+ years?_

_17. If it isn't Shinigami attacking "wholes", then what is?_

* * *

><p>_.~*~._<p>

* * *

><p>Taking suggestions for how to poke more holes in Tite Kubo's world (and fill them up again, of course - but with logic, not deus ex machina with extra machina. *cough*Hogyoku*cough*).<p> 


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